Under The Influence
by Dopeshieet
Summary: Is a Fantasy fling with the sexy bartender Edward a a good thing or is it a recipe for disaster?
1. Chapter 1

**Under The Influence.**

**Prologue.**

_Sexy Bartender Edward Cullen mixes one wicked martini._

_Or so efficiency expert Isabella Swan discovers when she takes a seat at his beachfront bar one lonely night._

_Edward is such a charmer mixing his signature cocktails while making her feel s-o-o-o very special._

_A fantasy fling with Edward could be a reciped for disaster._

_But hey she could always claim to be under the influence._

**________________________________________________________________________**

**thanks tell me what you think of where im heading with this story should i continue or not? review please.**

**thanks gabby. =)**


	2. Chapter 2

_**1**_

_Screaming Orgasm_

_1 oz white creme de cacao_

_1 oz Amaretto almond liqueur_

_1 oz triple sec_

_1 0z vodka_

_2 oz light cream_

_Serves two._

Isabella Swan did something that night she'd never done in her twenty-nine years on earth.

She walked into a bar alone. She hovered in the doorway of the Driftwood Bar and Grill in Orcay Bay, California, not sure whether to move forward or turn around and head back to her hotel room.

It wasn't that she was desparate for a drink, it was more that she couldn't sit at the too-small desk in her hotel room and look at those spreadsheets for one more minute without going crazy.

The Driftwood was a popular cocktails and dinner destination. The specialized in fresh seafood, like mussels served in buckets more ways than Bella could have imagined, and seared mahimahi with a Thai curry glaze.

The hostess approached her with a menu, her eyebrows raised. Shaking her head at both the hostess and her own timidity, Bella pulled her shoulders back and walked with a purpose.

Up to the gray granite bar. There were a dozen or so stools in brushed metal with black leather seats.

A young couple had their stools pushed so close together they touched from knee to thigh.

Bella chose a seat at the other end and hiked herself up onto it. She placed her purse on the empty stool beside her in a clear Keep Away signal, then glanced around.

She'd never beem here before, but she knew the place bu reputation. She was surprised how busy it was for a Wednesday night.

Almost every table was taken, mostly by couples. These looked like romantic rather than business transactions---unlike most of her dinners out. The decor of the room was upscale casual, with a beach theme that would have looked a lot better without all the pink-and-red stuff hanging from the ceiling.

And what was with the corny, oversize papier-mache hearts wafting around like a cardiologist's nightmare?

"Help you?"

Even as the low voice spoke to her, a terrible thought struck her. "Oh,no," she said, her gaze still transfixed by those swinging hearts. "Please tell me it's not Valentine's Day?"

She glanced up at the bartender who'd spoken. and looked in the most ever forest green eyes she had ever seen. And they were twinkling at her as though the gorgeous guys with the disheveled hair and the deeply tanned faced was laughing at her without involving his mouth. "Okay," he said, "I won't tell you."

Grabbing her purse, she pulled out her Blackberry. How had she not noticed the significance of the date?

February 14. "My secretary should have reminded me," she complained bitterly.

"Somebody you forgot to send flowers to?" she shook her head. "No, But I would have been more careful." She glanced around once more, now seeing the obvious. The twosomes holding hands, the low-voiced conversations that were all versions of "I love you," "No, _I _love _you_."

Of all the nights in all the cities she'd traveled to, she had to pick this one to brave a bar alone. "I am the only singleton trapped in the Love Shack."

The bartender laughed. Low and sexy. His shirt was open at the collar. If it was hers she'd have ironed it into crisp perfection, but she had to admit the rumpled cotton looked good on him, maybe because it went with his mussed hair and aura of relaxed untidiness, as if he'd just rolled out of bed.

"You're not the only one,"

She glanced up, inquiring.

"I'm stuck here,too."

Was he telling her he was single, also? She was so our of touch with the whole male-female thing that she wasn't sure that's what he meant.

Maybe he was simply complaining that he had to work when there was some hot chick still in his bed.

She wasn't about to ask.

"Well since we're both here, what can I get you?"

"Oh." She looked at the rows of bottles lined up against the mirrored wall behind him. As exotic as a jewelry store, the wall winked at her.

Bottles glowed with blue,pink and red. As entire row was devoted to Scotch whisky, some of which she knew was much older than she.

The she ordered what she always ordered. "A glass of white wine, please."

She had her second shock of the night.

The bartender shook his head.

"You don't carry white wine?"

"Sure we do. But white wine is not for you. Not tonight."

Both intrigued and mildly annoyed--- since Bella was a woman who always knew her own mind, was famous in fact for her decision making--- she said, "And what do you have in mind for me? Tonight?"

The moment the words left her lips she wished she could suck them back as fast as the couple down the other end of the bar were tossing back their martinis.

Her words sounded low, sexy, like a come-on. The last thing she intended. She shifted uncomfortably on her seat.

One quick drink and she was out of hearts-and-chocolates land.

The man behind the bar seemed not to notice her discomfort. He regarded her from those eyes that reminded her if the bay

and said, "Have you ever had a Blue Crush?"

Lord, she was having one now, looking into those green, green eyes and feeling her pulse speed up a little bit.

She knew she was overtired, but still, it was quite a reaction she was having to a man she could not have less in common with.

"I've had Orange Crush," she said, " when i was a kids."

He grinned at her, even white teeth that could eat her all up. "Trust me, this one'es alot more fun."

And she thought, _What the hell? Here i am on Valentine's Day, with no Valentine, I might at least try a new drink._

"Okay," she said. "I'll trust you."

"You won't be sorry."

Why did she find that so hard to believe?

"Right now," a twangy female voice suddenly said, coming from Bella's left, "I need two Screaming Orgasms, one Sex on the Beach and a Roll between the sheets."

"You and me both," Bella said. She didn't even realize she'd spoken aloud until the woman have a bray of laughter that was altogether bigger thasn her small frame could hold.

" It's Valentine's Day," the tiny waistress explained in a confidential tone.

"They think if they order the raunchy drinks, they'll get laid."

"Does it work?"

The woman flipped her red-gold ponytsil over her shoulder when she jerked her head towards the restaurant. "See for yourself."

Bella looked around, and felt suddenly as though she were behind a velvet rope on the outside of one of those exclusive A-list parties one read about.

And the biggest bouncer in the world was keeping her on the wrong side of the barrier.

On the other side were couples. She was no expert on mating rituals, but she could sense from the way they leaned towards each other, shared food and sipped each other's drinks that these men and woman weren't going home to calculators and spreadsheets for company.

Sex was in the air as decidedly as the aroma of fresh seafood and garlic butter.

One young man had his shoe off and was tracing the inner thigh of his date with his stockinged foot, not at all shy about the fact that anyone glancing his way would see what he was up to. Of course, most of the dinner guests were too interested in their own dates to glance anywhere else. One woman gave the man across the tiny table from her a bite of her chocolate hit his chin, they both ignored his napkin.

She gave a tiny smile, leaned close, breasts thrusting forward from a skimpy top, the tip of her pink tongue showing, and licked the chocolate off.

Thoroughly.

"Oh, my," Bella said, her hand going to her chest. Not that she was a prude, but there was alot if raw sexual energy in the room. It got to a person.

"Don't worry," the bartender said, "we've got plenty of fire extinguishers. If the heat gets out of hand, we blast them."

"Oh, Edward," the cocktail waistress said, with the lazy affection perfected by Southern women. She rolled her eyes, collecting her drinks on a round tray and departed.

"Edward?" Bella stared at the man in front of her. Of course he had no name badge. It wasn't that sort of place. But in the short time she'd been in town she'd discovered he was locally famous. With women.

"You're Hot Edward?"


End file.
